Serial Killer (3)

Edited by: Kuro and Lille

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Grey was finally able to go back home only later that night.

Myles lived alone in a small one-bedroom apartment. He didn't have many things in there because he was rarely home. His home was basically a place to sleep for a couple of hours and a storage unit. Myles wanted pets, but since he worked odd hours of the day or night, he thought it was better to live alone.

Myles didn't have a lover and never had one either. Even though he was a bisexual man, he didn't try to explore his sexuality, nor did he care to. He knew he found people attractive to a certain degree and that was it. His only focus was on his work. He had also thought he was asexual because even though he could feel "pleasure", it was by no means towards anyone. He just needed to release and then go. There was nothing special about it at all, just a rush of dopamine and serotonin that needed to come from time to time.

He didn't know if he was weird, but he didn't want to dwell on it. Myles was a one-track-minded person and didn't care about spending his life alone. He loved his job and wanted to put 100% into his job. He thought if he tried to seek partners, he wouldn't put 100% into his work, instead, it would be 75% or something. All in all, that bothered him, so he drowned himself in his career.

Grey thought that was a lonely life, but Myles had always been alone. He was an orphan who grew up in a very neglectful and abusive orphanage. He also went to a couple of foster homes but ultimately stayed in an orphanage in the end. He stayed there until he was 18, and had to venture out into the world alone. He had always been one to fight his battles alone. He was always independent with no one to rely on. His world expanded after becoming a detective, but it was only toward work. He was able to make "friends" through his work, but it was very few. He didn't talk to them outside of work. The man had completely separated his work life and private life, making it seem like there was an indestructible brick wall between the two. He was neglectful towards his personal life, even going as far as not taking care of his health.

Grey knew this needed to change, so he was going to work towards it. He wanted to show Myles the possibilities of the world. Even though he had to focus on the mission, afterward, he wanted to travel the world so that Myles could carry those experiences with him, even if he wasn't conscious of it, it would still be in his "data".

This was how it was in every world and body he went into. That's why he felt so heartbroken when he died so suddenly in the world where he was a Shadow Guard. But the original Number 18 would probably rule it out as a death that he was proud to die, so it wasn't all failure. He also died when battling the Gods, but it was better than dying at the hands of cursed Felicia.

After getting himself ready for bed, Grey tried to sleep a bit early. He had about 8 hours before having to go to the police station, so he wanted to catch up on sleep.

It was always after meeting his husband that his nightmares started coming.

.

.

.

.

"Again with this damn nightmare?" Grey was sitting in the living room of his old apartment.

He knew it was a nightmare because System 225 wasn't there and it was the same damn place. This time, he wasn't panicking, but he was mad.

"I just know this is a damn virus nightmare." He went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.

"How do you get rid of a virus? You kill it."

It was time to put an end to this. He was tired and had enough. Every time a nightmare came around, he always suffered in silence, even when God System was sleeping next to him. The frequency went down when they were together, but he always woke up like nothing was wrong. Even God System didn't know he had these nightmares.

Grey didn't want to mention it at all. These were his battles. He just wanted to enjoy his time with God System, but he no longer wanted to live dictated by these nightmares. He wanted to hurry up and get back to God System. He loved and trusted that man with his whole heart and soul. He didn't need to worry about these nightmares affecting his feelings.

When he said that, the doorbell rang.

"Honey? I'm home." Derick's voice echoed through the hallway, reaching his ears.

The Host felt his hair rise, but he gripped his knife. He calmed himself down and forced a smile. He took out the cutting board and then washed the knife in his hands.

"Welcome home. Give me a moment, I'm in the kitchen cooking dinner."

"Okay. I'm going to go shower then."

The Host quickly made some food without a care for how it looked. It was a simple dish of fried rice and stir-fried spinach. He put them on the table and then sat down, waiting. He moved the knife to the seat next to him, making sure that it was well-hidden and accessible. Then he rested his hands on the table, waiting patiently for the man to come out.

He sat there for a few minutes before the man came out in just a towel. His light brown hair was damp like the man had haphazardly dried his hair with a towel for a few seconds. He didn't dry his body well because there were still drops of water on his torso.

If he had seen this when he was in his first life, he would have blushed, but he didn't. He just mindlessly started to serve the man his meal. Derick was a bit confused as to why their dinner was small and slightly crude.

"Are you not feeling well? If you weren't feeling well, we could've just called take out."

His husband was usually so perfect that even when he was sick, he would make a proper meal. It was weird to eat simple dishes for dinner. How troublesome! Was he mad about the beating he had given him yesterday? What right did he have to get mad? Derick's thoughts were evident on his face. He didn't even try to hide his feelings of displeasure towards Grey.

"I apologize for the crude meal. I wasn't feeling well, but I didn't feel like eating out."

Derick raised his brow in confusion. "Why are you being picky? You could have just picked something on one of those menus we have by the door. Wouldn't make a difference to me."

"Why are you being picky then?" Grey shot the question back. "If it was just food, couldn't you just eat the food I made?"

Grey gave his usual smile, but somehow, Derick felt there was something sinister about it.

"Why are you smiling at me like that? Who the hell taught you to talk that way to me?" Derick got up, wanting to grab the Host by his collar to drag him out of his seat.

When Derick put his hand on his collar, Grey quickly grabbed the knife and plunged it into Derick's stomach. The man tried to take a step back but he was shocked to feel the knife come right back out just as quickly as it came in.

Blood was gushing all over the floor and on his hands that were trying to stop the bleeding. He slipped into the puddle and fell on his ass, terrified at what just happened.

When Grey looked down at Derick's face, they started to change and look like his lover from previous worlds. At first, it went really quickly through his husband's faces from the other worlds. After a bit, it slowly started to settle.

"Babe... How could you do this to me?" Damien's face appeared on Derick's face. It even had the same tone of voice.

It quickly morphed again, but this time, it was Ian. "I thought you loved me?"

"What did I do to make you do this?" Liam's face appeared but he grimaced at the pain. His voice was full of anguish. Blood slowly came out of his mouth.

Before the man could morph into another of God System's faces, Grey rushed towards him, stabbing the man in the face. "You are nothing but a virus made by System 001. Trying to crawl your way into my dreams. Trying to grasp at my weaknesses."

"Remember this for your Master and send it back to him in full. I will never falter and I will never give up. We will be seeing each other one day, so be prepared."

After that, he took the knife out of Derick's face. He didn't look at the man anymore as he got up.

"It's time for me to wake up."

When he said those words, Grey woke up.

****

It was a very short night. The nightmare had woken him up earlier than he wanted.

He sat up for a moment and suddenly laughed. His laugh was hysterical like a person had gone crazy after killing a person they had loved. He was laughing, but tears started to fall down his face.

[Grey, are you okay?]

"I stabbed him, System. I really stabbed him and BOY did that feel good."

He took some deep breaths before holding his shaking hands to his chest. He really did it. He really fought back! Was that how it felt to fight back? It made him feel really good. He thought he would feel guilty, but seeing that man on the floor felt liberating instead.

System 225 didn't say anything. Even though he didn't see what happened, he could guess that Grey had a nightmare but he had finally fought back. He didn't know if he should be proud or worried.

Grey didn't say anything else before he laid back down. He wanted to go back to sleep because he only got 4 hours of sleep, but his phone rang. Hearing that ringtone, he knew it was Caleb's so he picked it up.

It seems they found another body.

"Really? Another one so soon?" Grey grumbled into the phone. He got up to go find some clothes. He struggled to put his clothes on, almost tripping. He still managed to talk with Caleb while rushing to get out.

"That's what I said. It's a male victim this time. He looks different from the other victims, and this time there isn't a brand on the body."

"If there's no brand, why would we get a call when they know we have a case we are working on? Don't we have other people in this department? It could be a copycat murderer, no? Maybe even something that's not related."

"I was thinking the same thing but it turns out that the incisions made were in the same way as the other victims. Dr. Hendrick and Dr. Reynolds were sure it was done by the same person."

"I got it. Tell them to look through the person's belongings if possible. We can't rule out that maybe the killer has sewed it on something. You and I are going to go to the crime scene. I will tell our people to take pictures of the surroundings of the crime scene while we look."

"Understood. I will see you there."

They hung up the phone call the moment he got into the car. He was annoyed. Life as a detective was still as annoying as he remembered it to be!

*****

A man was staring at his computer. There were hundreds of photos in the file that he was slowly looking through. It seemed to be a picture of one man, from when the individual was 14 all the way to age 33. They were all pictures that were taken of an individual who was unaware they were in the photo.

The man in the photos was Myles. It was like the man staring at the computer was going through the timeline of Myles' life.

"It seems he is finally looking at my case. He has finally noticed me."

"He is still so handsome."

"Very handsome."

"I wonder when he will finally notice that I am watching him."

There was even a photo of Myles at the first crime scene he made in the city Myles lived in. Myles was bent over, looking at the body. His brows were furrowed as he looked for any clues on and around the body.

His partner, Caleb, was in the background looking through the shrubs with his gloves on. In the next photo, Myles was talking to Caleb. In the background, there were people taking pictures of the crime scene.

This crime scene was situated in the forest. There was a trail that went through it, and the body was found 30 feet away from the pathway. The trees were large pine trees and there were small shrubs here and there. The person who had found the body was a woman who was on a morning run with her dog. The dog had alerted her about it and then she called 911.

Looking at the picture, the unknown man knew what time it was and when the body was placed there.

"I placed her there at midnight but had killed her 4 hours prior. When this picture was taken, it was 6 A.M. Some people are early risers." The man said nonchalantly as though what he was talking about wasn't a dead body.

"She was really annoying though and her screams were the highest pitch of all my other kills. I killed her quickly because I didn't want to hear it." He said it in a tone that put all the blame on the victim. He really hated her voice.

He quickly closed the file tab and turned off his computer. He put on his boots, grabbed his coat, and left his house.

The house was in a small neighborhood. It wasn't a gated community, but one could tell the house was expensive. Probably cost millions of dollars. He had a simple black car that he used for occasions like this, hidden away in his backyard.

"They probably found his body." The man mumbled to himself as he drove on the road. He was humming a tune from a random song that was frequently played on Myles' radio. He knew that Myles liked to sing this song in the car when no one was there.

Myles was the only man he cared about.

If he couldn't have Myles, no one could.